Chaotic Be Jack (The Cap's Place Series Book 5) Read online

  PJ shook her head and said, “I’m sure Jack will be glad to hear he has your approval.”

  “Oh, I think he would be very glad to hear that. Otherwise he wouldn’t be so nice to me every time I see him.”

  “Of course he would be nice to you; he’s a nice guy.”

  “See . . . you do like him. I knew it. I knew it all along.”

  Laughing again, PJ said, “Come on young lady, let’s finish the dishes.”

  As they finished the dishes, PJ deflected several additional attempts by Angela to get her to admit aloud feelings about Jack that she was only just coming to grips with internally. They had just finished when PJ’s cell phone vibrated in her pocket. She withdrew it with hopes of seeing Jack’s name on the screen. It was Mark from Hollywood P.D. She answered with trepidation.

  “PJ, I got some information, not much, but some. A patrol in a 4x4 made the last pass down South Ocean Drive before the bridges were raised. They came across a car registered to Jack Nolan at the address of the bar you mentioned. It was sitting in the center of the street with a large palm tree resting on the roof. No one anywhere around. There was a small duffle bag in the back seat and the keys were in the car.”

  “You think the tree fell on the car and he had to abandon it?”

  “Well, that’s the strange thing. The patrol officer said that from the damage the tree did to the roof line and doors, neither door would open. So his guess was that the guy was already out of the car when the tree fell, but he wasn’t anywhere around. Now keep in mind the patrol couldn’t stay there very long, they had to keep going to finish their sweep of the area, but they didn’t see anyone anywhere nearby.”

  PJ hesitated as she analyzed what she’d been told. Mark interrupted her thoughts saying, “Hey, PJ, I’ve got to run. I’ll call you back if I learn anything more.”

  “Oh, yeah, Mark. I know you’ve got to be pulled in a hundred directions. Thanks so much.”

  “Yeah, on top of all that goes with a Cat 4 hurricane, a couple of guys knocked off an armored truck late this afternoon. Posed as utility workers and got the truck to stop with some fake utility line across the street. When the driver lowered his window, they stuck an AR-15 in his face and took him hostage. They threatened to kill the driver, so the guard in back opened up to save his buddy. Before they left the scene, they shot both guys, even though they had been fully cooperative. Only reason we know what happened is the driver lived long enough to give a statement in the ambulance on the way to the hospital. He died in surgery. Be thankful you aren’t a dick here any longer. You’d be trying to work an armored truck heist and double homicide in the middle of a hurricane.”

  After the call ended, PJ told Angela what Mark had said about finding Jack’s car. She told her to go on into the other room and start the game with her grandparents. PJ needed some time to think about this new information.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  When Justin and I made our way across the dark bar floor, we found Moe and Julia seated at the bar with one of the battery-powered lanterns going. Ty and Mooch were still seated at the table, but in the dim light cast by the single lantern, they would have been easily unseen in their dark clothes. Ty called out, “Hey, Jack, you got any more flashlights around here?”

  Although none of us had chosen to introduce ourselves to the two of them, obviously Ty had picked up our names from overhearing us talking to each other. I replied, “Yeah, I think we do. Give us a couple of minutes to get the generator going and when the lights come back on, I’ll find them.”

  “Well hell, if the lights are coming back on, we won’t need flashlights. Me and Mooch will just sit tight here. We got no place to go anyway.”

  By now, Moe was on his feet and headed for the door. I asked, “Do you need a hand, Moe?”

  “Naw, Boss. I’ll get the generator. Can you go back into the kitchen and trip the breakers for the freezers, the beer coolers, and the walk-in? That’ll reduce the load on the generator when I trip it over. Everything should hold cold for several hours.”

  I went back into the kitchen and tripped the breakers Moe had indicated. It was easy enough as a couple of days ago while preparing for the storm he had marked each one that needed to be tripped with a red dot sticker. I couldn’t help but think that Moe is a good guy to have in your corner during tough times. Most people, myself included, sometimes don’t see past his sheer size, but there’s much more to Moe than meets the eye. By the time I got back into the bar, the lights had come back on.

  Moe came in the back door and shook like a wet dog. Well, probably more like a wet bull. He had worn one of the ponchos but still looked wet to the skin. After using one of the towels to dry himself and his clothes the best he could, he returned to his stool at the bar. He said, “I almost forgot to trip the breaker outside to take us off line. Don’t know how far our little generator would have gone trying to power the entire city.”

  With a demanding tone, Ty asked, “Has the weather gotten worse out there?”

  Moe cocked his head as if contemplating how to answer such a stupid question. Finally, he said over his shoulder, “Well, it ain’t getting any better. That’s for sure.” Then he turned to Justin and said, “Couldn’t see very well with all of the marina lights out, but it looked to me like the water was breaking over the docks out there.”

  Justin nodded. “Yeah, that’s probably just the beginning. If the water level gets too high during the storm surge, the mooring lines are going to come right off the tops of the posts.”

  I said, “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “No. Especially since we’ll likely find half of the boats in the parking lot right outside the door.”

  Moe deadpanned, “Damn, should I move my car?”

  Justin chuckled and said, “Yeah, top level of the nearest parking structure.”

  With the freight train roar of the storm and the periodic banging of flying debris hitting the shutters, the loss of power and communication, and now the realization that the water was truly rising, I suddenly had a hollow feeling inside. If I hadn’t wanted to wait to close Cap’s Place and leave until the authorities had done the inevitable and ordered evacuation, we would have all been gone by now. We wouldn’t have been trapped here and we wouldn’t have ever crossed paths with Ty and Mooch. I was beginning to spiral into a deep funk when Julia asked if she could have a Coke. The distraction was welcome.

  Unfortunately, Julia’s request opened another dialog with Ty about the availability of alcohol. After I rebuffed him a couple of times, he said, “Damn, can’t believe we’re trapped in a bar facing a life threatening hurricane and we can’t even get a drink.” He turned to Mooch and said, “What the hell you think of that, Mooch?”

  “Not acceptable,” were nearly the first words we had heard Mooch utter since the two of them darkened our doorstep. He was rising from his chair as he spoke. Ty wore a smirk that said, “Should I let my pit bull off his leash?”

  I could sense Moe and Justin both tense up. I know both of them well enough to know that the size of Mooch would not deter either of them from standing up to him. Yet, I also knew that based on Justin’s investigation, these guys were probably hardened criminals and only God knows what kinds of weapons they might have in the duffle bag. Or, on their persons for that matter. Both wore their shirts untucked over their belt lines. They may both be armed without even opening their duffle. I made a quick decision.

  I slid off my stool and said, “The booze down here is locked up, but I think I’ve got a bottle of scotch up in my apartment. I’ll go up and get it. You’re right, Ty, a little drink would probably do us all some good.”

  Ty clapped his hands together. “Now you’re talking, Jack.” He looked at Mooch and Mooch sat down. Then he looked back at me and said, “Well, get going, Jack. We’re all damn thirsty. Let’s get this party started.”

  As I started for the hallway leading to the stairs, I glanced at Moe and Justin. Justin returned my gaze with a subtle nod. Mo
e just continued to glare at Mooch. I was starting to feel as if the hurricane inside might soon equal the one outside.

  Climbing the stairs to my apartment, I was struck by how much louder the storm sounded upstairs than down. Not only was the wind howling, but the building was creaking and popping, as if the walls might suddenly fly apart. While upstairs I grabbed the 9 mm I keep in the nightstand near my bed. I tucked it in the back of my pants, under my shirt.

  A couple of minutes later I returned carrying the bottle of Booker’s I had upstairs. I’d taken it upstairs months ago when Elena wanted to make some cocktail she thought was great. The cocktail was too sweet for my taste and Elena was long gone, but I still had the bourbon. I held the bottle up and said, “Couldn’t find the scotch; hope this will do?” I set the bottle on their table and walked quickly behind the bar, saying, “Let me get you a couple of glasses.”

  Ty picked up the bottle and said, “Yeah, this will do nicely. Very kind of you, Jack.” His tone had more than a touch of sarcasm.

  While rustling around for the glasses, I slipped the 9 mm onto a shelf that’s not readily visible under the bar. Dana uses it to stash her purse while she’s working. I took the two glasses over to their table and said, “Enjoy.”

  Ty poured a healthy drink for each of them and held the bottle up. “Hey, ain’t you guys gunna drink with us?”

  I said, “Maybe one. We had one before you guys got here and I think we need to keep our heads clear. But one can’t hurt.” I collected our three shot glasses from the bar and carried them over to the table.

  Ty filled each to the rim and said, “Now you’re talking, Jack. Let’s have just one.” He laughed, fully displaying his decaying crooked teeth and added, “Well, just one at a time.” Mooch and Ty hoisted their glasses and downed about half of the large drinks. Both flinched as the bourbon burned its way to their stomachs. I took a small sip of mine. Moe and Justin both wrapped a hand around their glass, but neither drank. We were all on the same page. Let those two get drunk, we’re going to be the sober ones in the room.

  Ty said, “Damn, that’s good.” He started to raise his glass but stopped midway and suddenly stood, looking to the top of the bar. “Damn, little lady, you ain’t got a drink. Jack, what kind of host are you anyway? Get the little lady a drink.”

  I looked to Julia and then back toward Ty, but before I could say anything, Julia said in a clear strong voice, “I can’t drink, I’m pregnant.”

  Ty replied, “Hell, honey, my ma drank right up until the time I was born and I turned out just fine.” I thought, Yeah that’s obvious, but kept my mouth shut. Ty raised his glass and said, “Congratulations, Jack.”

  Julia let out a scoff and said, “Baby’s not his. Jack’s my uncle. My husband’s a Marine. Been back from his third deployment about three months now. We came down to visit Uncle Jack. Owen went out before the storm got so bad, should be back anytime.” Her voice trembled just a bit when she said Owen.

  Ty regarded her for a few seconds and then said, “There ain’t no Marine bases around here.”

  Julia looked at him as if he’d asked her if she could fly. “No kidding. We’re assigned to Blount Island, Jacksonville. Like I said, we came down to visit Uncle Jack.” She hesitated, shook her head and added, “Poor timing.”

  Ty’s bushy eyebrows knitted as if he was really concentrating. Probably not a usual occurrence for him. He asked, “So, just how pregnant are you? You don’t look pregnant. When’s the kid due, anyway?”

  Now her voice was indignant. “Don’t know that it’s any of your business, but I haven’t been to the doctor yet. The little stick just told us a few days ago.” With that Julia swiveled on her stool, signaling that as far as she was concerned the conversation was over. I was pretty confident that Owen wasn’t a Marine—he just didn’t have the bearing—and I knew that Julia wasn’t my niece. I had no idea whether she was pregnant or not, but I was certainly impressed with her ability to tell a believable story. Even Justin was looking at her with a hint of admiration in his eyes.

  Ty slumped back into his chair and he and Mooch downed the remainder of their second pours. Justin, Moe, and I sat at the bar holding our drinks. None of us drinking.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Ty and Mooch seemed content in sipping the bourbon and talking amongst themselves. With the roar of the storm, we couldn’t hear what they were talking about even though they were only a few feet away. Julia had positioned her stool so that she was completely out of their line of sight, blocked by Justin and me. That seemed to temper the leers, but from the bits and pieces of their conversation I could catch, it was obvious that she was a frequent topic.

  Suddenly, a crashing sound immediately followed by a loud bang against one of the back shutters startled all six of us. We’d gotten somewhat desensitized to the frequent sound of debris hitting the shutters, but this was well beyond anything we’d experienced so far. I walked over to the back wall and examined the area I thought the sound came from. Shining my flashlight through the plate glass sliding door, I could see the shutter was bowed and actually touching the glass. Whatever hit it must have been heavy and really moving.

  As I walked back, Ty said, “Shit, Jack, sounds like the storm’s trying to crash the party.” He paused and then said, “Hey, I’m sorry if I was a bit of a jackass earlier. It’s been one hell of a day. First they call us in during the middle of the night to come down here. Then the piece-of-shit truck they send us in breaks down in Ocala, so I got to hunt down my redneck brother-in-law and borrow his damn truck. That was stupid on my part. Shouldn’t have told the company I could find a truck. Any other town we’d have been stuck sitting out the storm, high and dry.” He took a quick swallow of bourbon before continuing, “Anyway, after all that we, get clear down here and find out they sent us to the wrong damn location. Sent us to the middle of the damn storm.” He looked down at the table for a few seconds and then said, “Guess I was just lashing out. Sorry, man.” With that he rose and thrust out his hand. I took a couple of steps toward him and we shook. His grip was firm, but not bone crushing. I looked into his eyes but didn’t see sincerity. The coldness that looked back at me sent a cold shiver through me.

  I muttered, “No problem. Been a hell of a day for everyone.”

  I returned to my seat at the bar as Ty poured another drink for himself and Mooch. I looked at Justin as if to ask, “What do you think?”

  Reading my expression, Justin subtly shook his head and mouthed the word, “Bullshit.”

  Another loud bang, followed by a screeching sound that reminded me of the breaks on a freight train, startled us again. This time the sound had come from somewhere above us. Somewhere upstairs. A new high-pitched whistle was added to the continuum of roaring and thudding noises that had become our world. Julia reached out and grabbed my arm, “What was that?” There was a hint of terror in her eyes.

  Attempting to look reassuring, I said, “I don’t know, but I’ll go take a look.” As I started for the hallway, I noticed both Mooch and Ty shifting in their seats. Obviously, even the copious amount of bourbon they’d consumed hadn’t protected them from the stress the storm was placing on all of us.

  As I reached the top of the stairs, Justin called out to me from the bottom, “I’ll come up and help you check, Jack.”

  When he reached me, he said, “Moe’ll keep an eye on Julia. I wanted to talk a minute. See what our strategy should be. The bourbon was a good move. They’re losing their edge. I think we make a move soon.”

  “I take it you don’t buy Ty’s story?”

  “Not one word. Well, with the exception that they got the truck in Ocala. That part’s true. That I saw on the paperwork in the glovebox. They stole it, they didn’t borrow it. Come on, Jack, you didn’t buy that bullshit, did you? Remember the thirty-round magazine I found under the seat of their truck.”

  I rubbed the top of my head. “I don’t know. Why bother to tell the story in the first place, if it wasn’t true? Th
e magazine, hell, half the trucks in the south probably have an assault rifle in them these days.”

  Justin considered my question before answering. “I would guess that he sensed how tense we were around them and Ty wanted to ratchet down our concern.”

  “Why? He doesn’t really seem like the caring, sensitive type, concerned about the feelings of his fellow man.”

  Justin rubbed his hand across the stubble on his chin and replied, “If we’re at ease, we’re less of a threat. Simple as that.”

  “So, what do you think we should do?”

  “I’ll get the 9 mm you stashed behind the bar and we’ll disarm and bind them. Moe must have some duct tape around here someplace.”

  “Shit, Justin, you’re talking about something akin to kidnapping. What if we’re wrong? We don’t know that they’re even armed.”

  He looked at me as if I was a five year old who had just disappointed his father, “Just when I think you’ve started to grasp reality, you say something like that. The world is not as you would like it to be, it is as it appears. Those two guys are armed and in my mind very dangerous. If I’m wrong, and anything comes of it, I’ll take the fall. I’ll say you and Moe were against it, but I forced you to go along.”

  “How about this? You hold them at gun point and Moe and I search them and their duffle. If we don’t find weapons, we don’t bind them up.”

  Justin hesitated, but agreed. Then he said, “But we do need to have something to bind them ready.”

  “Not a problem. Moe has a small closet in the back of the kitchen where he keeps tools and stuff he uses around here. I’ll say I’m going back to check the breaker box and get the duct tape. I’m sure he has duct tape, I’ve seem him use it on any number of occasions.”